


The Witching Hour

by st_mick



Series: Niffler [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Conversations at 3am, M/M, Some of Luna's backstory, secrets and confessions, smooches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 14:58:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17830766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: It seems that the hour between 3 and 4am is conducive to sharing all sorts of history and secrets.  Jack learns more about Ianto, and vice versa.  And Jack is curious about Luna.  He has become very fond of her, and asks Ianto to tell him about her.  Now he just needs to stop kissing Ianto long enough to hear...





	The Witching Hour

As predicted, Ianto slept almost constantly for the next two weeks.  Jack stayed with him for the bulk of that time, emerging from the bunker to check in with the team and do paperwork and make calls for a few hours each day, but otherwise he did not stray far, because Ianto seemed to sleep more soundly when curled up in the warmth of Jack’s body. 

Each morning, either Draco or Susan woke Ianto and examined him before giving him his potion.  Jack had breakfast waiting for him, when they were done.  It took a few days for his appetite to return, but it was back to normal, soon enough.  The Torchwood team piled down into the bunker to have lunch with them, when the rift allowed.  And each evening, one or two of his friends stopped by with dinner and stayed to visit as he and Jack ate. 

Ianto slept most of the time in between, though Luna spent a good deal of time with him when Jack was working.  Ianto sensed her relief that he finally remembered being cursed, because now he could recover, but also because now they could commiserate with one another over a shared experience that not many had experienced.

For the most part, Jack had let them speak alone, but one evening, he joined their conversation.  Somehow, knowing that they had all shared the experience, even though it was truly terrible, was a comfort to each of them.

During Ianto’s recovery, Jack’s favorite time of day came deep in the night.  He noted that it was usually sometime during the witching hour that a nightmare would wake one or the other of them, though sometimes it was simply thirst, or need for the toilet.  No matter the reason, it was a time they had completely to themselves, and there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that nothing would be held back, in these moments.  Any question could be asked.  And it was safe to demure, but it was more likely to be answered at this time than any other, because there was something sacred about this time, alone in the dark, wrapped up in one another.

It was during one of these times that Jack told Ianto about his first death, on the game station.  How Rose had brought him back.  What the Doctor had said.  Ianto held him and soothed him and quietly raged against the Doctor, saying he was the one who was wrong, to say such a thing to a friend.  And he told Jack what he saw, when his magic was up.  He did not have the sight, not like Luna, but occasionally he did see things.  And the beauty of the vortex flowing through Jack could not possibly be wrong.

On another night, Jack told Ianto about Gray. 

“I let go of his hand,” he sobbed.

“Jack,” Ianto held him close.  “You were just a boy.  You’d never been in a battle, never experienced such terror, never had that rush of adrenaline.  How could you have held on?”

“Even my mother blamed me,” Jack whispered.

“She was mourning her husband and son,” Ianto replied gently.  “Her grief and misery may have seemed like blame, but she could not have correctly blamed you, Jack.  Because it was not your fault.”

Ianto held Jack, hoping someday he would forgive himself, hoping he would somehow hear the truth of Ianto’s words.

On still another night, Jack asked Ianto about the rifle.  Ianto had not merely known how to shoot.  He had been taught to break the weapon down and put it back together again, ensuring it was in good working order.  And he had known how to shoot, very accurately and from an impressive distance.  He had even cleaned the weapon before giving it to Shacklebolt to return.  These were not common skills, among sixteen year-olds from the estates in Cardiff.

Ianto had surprised him by answering.  “I think I told you, during the aftershocks, that my father… was…” he hesitated.

“You fell in with a certain crowd when avoiding your father,” Jack supplied.

Ianto nodded.  “It wasn’t a normal gang, though.  It wasn’t about drugs or territory or anything like that.”

“What was it about?”

“Sort of an urban militia, I suppose.  Led by a former Royal Marine, name of Ewan Driscoll.  He was dismissed with disgrace.  Never said why.  He always acted like all he wanted to do was keep the neighborhood safe.  Set up patrols – essentially, an armed neighborhood watch.”

“How old were you?”

Ianto blew out a breath.  “It was before my letter came from Hogwarts.  “Ten, I guess?”

Jack closed his eyes and sighed.  “And the thieving?”  Jack realized that Ianto’s friends saw him as a charming sort of Artful Dodger.  And while he could tell that Ianto was not ashamed of the things he had done, nor was he proud of them.  It was simply part of who he was.

“Funded the whole thing.  Helped buy weapons.  Sometimes, food for any neighbors who were struggling.  They took in kids who were trying to get away from abusive families.  If it wasn’t for school, I would have stayed with them.  But I wasn’t going to give up Hogwarts or magic, for anyone.  Ewan understood.”

“He knew you’re a wizard?”

“No, but he knew school was important.  Thought I was scholarshipped at a good school.  Told me not to give it up.”

“But he took you in, when you were home from school.”

“I still lived at home,” Ianto sighed.  “Couldn’t get around that, but I spent twenty-two hours a day with Driscoll and his crew.”

“And you learned all sorts of life skills,” Jack smirked.

Ianto chuckled.  “I was too young to learn to shoot, but I was persistent, so Driscoll gave in and taught me how to break all of the guns down and rebuild them.  It didn’t take me long to worm my way into target practice, too.  And I was pretty good, so he let me – mostly to keep me out of other things, I think.”

Jack laughed.  “I can imagine you, young and angry and impatient and not having the filters or patience…”

Ianto nodded.  “It wasn’t his plan.  He actually got a bit annoyed.  He wanted me picking pockets, while I was still too little and too cute to be suspicious.”

“I bet you were adorable,” Jack grinned.

“You have no idea,” Ianto replied drolly.

Jack shook his head, but did not comment on the sarcasm.  Ianto really had no idea how attractive he was.  It boggled the mind.  But then again, even Jack realized that no relationship could withstand two egos the size of his.  “So what else, besides picking pockets on the Plass?”

“There wasn’t much of that, actually, even though I was rather adept at it.  He had a tech guy who taught me a lot.  Driscoll would work out different jobs.  His rule was for it to not cause anyone harm.  So never anything that an insurance payout wouldn’t cover.  And never target the mom and pop operations.”

“Regular Robin Hood, your guy,” Jack commented.

Ianto shrugged.  “He was no hero.  And didn’t claim to be.  But the neighborhood was safer, while he ran it.  But not long after I stepped away from the crew, a couple of gangs got together and took them out.”  He gave a shudder.

“Why did you step away?”

“I’d just sat for my OWL’s when Hogwarts was attacked and Dumbledore was killed.  After the funeral, they sent us home.  I had a tough time.  We’d felt safe, with Dumbledore there.  It all got a bit too real, with him gone.  The wizarding world was going to shit, with them rounding up muggle-borns, and the Dementors breeding.”  He shivered at the memory.  “So I kept myself to myself, that summer.  Turns out, it was a lucky decision, because it was then that Driscoll’s crew got dismantled.”

Jack thought of how this had all started.  “So what made you take the time turner?”

Jack could hear the grin in Ianto’s voice.  “I was a surly, bone-headed fourteen year-old pickpocket with a problem with authority and a taste for pushing limits.  You really think I could resist the fun of boosting a little something from the Department of Mysteries?”

“And was that the only thing you took?” Jack asked.

“Hard to say,” Ianto hedged.  “It was rather a long time ago, you know.”

Jack chuckled.  “Fine, don’t tell me.”  He kissed Ianto.  “Actually, tell me this, at least.  Is it as dangerous as the time turner?”

“Jack,” Ianto scolded.  “Everything in the Department of Mysteries is dangerous, in one way or another.”  He yelped when Jack poked him in the ribs, then laughed.  “No, nothing dangerous left the ministry, that night, other than the time turner.”

Jack felt a perverse pleasure that Ianto had pretty much admitted that he had taken something else.  He loved the trust it implied.  He pulled Ianto closer.  “You enjoyed the challenge, didn’t you?”  He drew a deep breath.  “Like some part of you enjoyed the challenge of figuring out how to con us, when you first got here.”

Ianto stiffened in his arms.  “Jack,” he protested.

Jack kissed him.  “It’s all right.  I get it.  Used to run cons, myself.”

The conversation then turned to this part of Jack’s past, and they spoke quietly until Ianto began nodding off, again. 

“Here’s to using our powers for good, from now on,” Jack smiled as he settled Ianto’s sleepy form closer against him.

“Can’t guarantee I’ll never steal anything, again,” Ianto mumbled, already half asleep.

Jack sighed and kissed Ianto on the temple.  “You have no idea what you’ve already stolen, Ianto,” he whispered.

***

It was ten minutes after three in the morning a few nights later when Ianto grew restless.  Jack woke, sighing.  _Right on time_ , he thought.  He began running a hand through Ianto’s hair, hoping it would settle him.  But the younger man grew more agitated, muscles twitching and breath growing short.

“Ianto,” Jack whispered, pulling him close, rubbing his back and kissing his temple.

“Luna!” Ianto cried out, bolting upright and breathing hard.  Jack sat up and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.  Ianto was shaking.  “Sorry,” he breathed, once he came fully awake.

“S’alright,” Jack whispered, kissing his shoulder.  “Want to tell me about it?”

Ianto scrubbed his hands over his face.  “There was a giant.  Its head exploded and it fell.  I… I couldn’t get to Luna in time, before it fell on her.”

Jack hauled Ianto between his legs and held him closer.  He kissed his shoulder.  “But you did.  You saved her.”

Ianto gave a jerky nod.  He leaned back into Jack’s chest and hugged the older man’s arms against him.  After a few minutes, his breathing calmed.  He turned his head and kissed Jack.  “Thank you,” he murmured against Jack’s mouth.

“You’re welcome,” Jack kissed him back and lay them back down, arranging them comfortably for one of their talks.  “Will you tell me about her?” he asked quietly.  He had found he already held a great affection for the young woman, for no other reason than what a good friend she had been to Ianto.  But now he found himself wanting to know more about her.  “What does she do?”

“Nobody knows,” Ianto smiled.  “She is an Unspeakable.”

“Department of Mysteries, right?”

“Yes.”

“So we know at the very least she helps to monitor timelines.”

“Makes sense.”

“What was she like, in school?”

A fond smile twitched at Ianto’s lips.  “She was _that_ girl.  You know, the one who didn’t fit in, but was completely oblivious to the fact.  She was utterly unique, fantastically odd, and unfailingly kind.”  He sighed.  “So nothing has changed, really.  I mean, how many adult women would go around in Hippogriff knickers?”

Jack chuckled.  “You were in the same year, yes?”

“We were.  She was sorted into Ravenclaw.”

“Which one was that?”

“’Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure’,” Ianto recited.

“Right.  The brainiacs.”  He paused.  “I’m surprised you didn’t end up there.”

“Well, the sorting hat did mention that I’d do fine in Gryffindor or Slytherin…”

“Courage and cunning?” Jack was trying to remember what he had gleaned about Hogwarts, over the years.

Ianto nodded, smiling.  “And even Ravenclaw would have worked out, but I was best suited to Hufflepuff.”

“That is just the best name, ever,” Jack chuckled.

“I think so,” Ianto grinned.

“So tell me about why you were best suited to Hufflepuff,” Jack said, grinning.

“Maybe another night,” Ianto hedged.  Something about that topic seemed to really stir something in Jack.  Ianto was uncertain whether to be thrilled or appalled by this rather odd kink.

Jack grinned again.  “I am going to hold you to that,” he whispered against Ianto’s neck, giving it an appreciative nip.  He smiled at the shiver Ianto gave in response.

It had been an unusual twelve days since the events at the Pharm.  He had spent a great deal of time with Ianto, but their interactions had been mostly limited to conversation or sleep, though there had been some lovely bubble baths and some fantastic snogging.  Jack was fairly certain that he had never spent so much time in bed with anyone without having sex with them, but Ianto had been too weak and fatigued for anything beyond the kisses and caresses that they had been exchanging so freely. 

Jack wondered if Ianto had noticed the easy affection that had blossomed between them.  He hoped that, once the younger man was back on his feet, he would not want to return to the more distant arrangement they’d had, before.  He supposed time would tell, but it seemed like it had been a lifetime since he had enjoyed this… sweetness that they had found, and he was reluctant to give it up, even though it frightened him to his very core.

For his part, Ianto had very much noticed – and keenly appreciated – this deeper harmony that he and Jack had found.  It took all of the energy he could spare to avoid thinking of what would happen, once he recovered.  He blessed this bubble of time he and Jack had enjoyed, but he had no expectation that it could survive in the outside world.  But for now, he would enjoy it as much as possible.

To that end, he pulled Jack close, pressing their bodies together and kissing him lazily.  When he finally pulled back, Jack let out an uneven breath.  “What was that for?”

“Thank you,” Ianto said quietly.  “For taking care of me.  You could have let Luna take me home…”

“I know.  But I wanted you close.  To be sure you’re okay.”  Jack kissed Ianto again, eliciting once of those lovely purrs he was growing alarmingly attached to.  “You are, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Ianto nodded.  “I just wish I wasn’t so bloody tired, still.”

“Draco says that will pass.  Already seems to be.  You’re staying awake a bit longer, each time you wake up.”

“I know.  I’ve just never been a patient… patient.”

Jack chuckled.  He drew Ianto close, tucking him into his shoulder.  “So Luna was sorted to Ravenclaw.”

“Mmm.  Everyone called her Loony.  Well, not everyone.  I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like bullies.  Making fun of someone and calling them names because they’re different…  No.  Besides, she was just delightfully zany without trying to be.”  He had Jack laughing fondly as he described the butterbeer-cork necklace, radish earrings, and roaring lion hat that got pulled out whenever Ravenclaw was supporting Gryffindor on the quidditch pitch. 

Ianto smiled fondly.  “And so open-minded.  Of course, that was her dad’s influence.”  He explained about _The Quibbler_.  “But people will surprise you.  They were the bravest ones.”

“How so?”

“There were only a handful of us who were willing to defy Professor Umbridge and have Harry teach us defense against the dark arts.  Luna was among the first to join Dumbledore’s Army.”

“As were you,” Jack smiled.

“As I mentioned, problems with authority.”

“I’ve never noticed that.”

“You assume I recognize your authority.”

“Ouch.”

“We were speaking of Luna.  Stop interrupting.”

Jack snogged Ianto breathless.  “Okay.”

Ianto shook his head, to clear it.  “Luna was one of seven students to fight in the battle at the Department of Mysteries.”

“Really?” Jack seemed surprised.  “I wouldn’t have guessed she’s a fighter.”

“And yet she held her own.  By rights, none of us should have walked out of there.  We were too inexperienced.  Too naïve.  We were lucky, that night, though we suffered a terrible loss.”

“Who?”

“Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black.”

“I remember the name,” Jack said.  “Broke out of Azkaban.”

“Never belonged there, in the first place,” Ianto commented.

“Luna convinced her father to print Harry’s side of the story in _The Quibbler_.  The Ministry was in such deep denial that they were using more traditional outlets to discredit Harry rather than admit the possibility that Voldemort had returned.  _The Quibbler_ remained a beacon of truth throughout the war, at least until…” he trailed off.

“What happened?” Jack asked gently.  Ianto’s body had become tense at whatever memory had arisen.

“They took her when she went home for Christmas,” he whispered.

“Who took her?” Jack asked, frowning.

“The death eaters.  They kidnapped her and used her to get her father to stop printing pro-Harry stories in _The Quibbler_. 

“Shit.”

“And she was one of the known leaders of the DA.”  At Jack’s quizzical look, he elaborated.  “Dumbledore’s Army.  Neville, Luna and Ginny were sort of our ringleaders.”

“You weren’t?”

“Not much for leading.”

“Not a leader, not a follower… So what are you, Wizard Jones?”

“We’re not talking about me, here.”

“I see what you did, there.”

“I’m glad, Jack.”  Ianto smiled, unable to sustain the snark behind that comment.  The exchange had helped to dissipate some of his tension around what he would tell Jack, next.  He took a breath.  “Bellatrix was there.  And by now I’m sure you’ve been brought up to date on her favorite thing to do.”

“The _cruciatus_ curse.”

Ianto nodded.  “They knew not to go too hard on Luna, just in case they needed her to seem well enough that threatening her father would still work.  But…” he sighed.  “You heard her mention Mr. Ollivander?”

“Wand maker, right?”

“Yes.  There was some next level voodoo going on between Voldemort’s and Harry’s wands, and Ollivander had been taken to try to figure out what was going on.  Voldemort had been very hard on the old man, but he was keeping him alive, in case there was more information to be had.  Bellatrix thought it would be _fun_ ,” he spat.  He was shaking, both with his own memories and with what Luna had told him of her experience.

Jack pulled him closer.  “It’s over and done, Ianto, and Luna is fine.  Better than fine, actually.  She is amazing.”

Ianto calmed.  “I know.  I’m sorry.  It’s just… remembering what she did.  To me.  It’s still really raw.”

“Maybe we should sleep, now.  You can tell me the rest, some other time.”

“No, it’s in my head, now.  I need… I need to get it out.”

“Then tell me.”

“Bellatrix used the _imperius_ curse and forced Luna to perform the _cruciatus_ curse on Ollivander.”

“Jesus.”

“The thing is, we’d been taught how to throw off the _imperius_ curse, in our third year.  But it took her a few minutes.  She still blames herself for not overcoming it, sooner.”

“I can imagine.  The violation, coupled with being forced to do something so obviously against her nature.  Gods and goddesses, what a thing to have to carry!”

“Along with the shame of it.  I’m the only one she’s told, though of course Ollivander knows, and I’m pretty sure Draco does.  But don’t go trying to talk to her about it; she’d never forgive me.  Nor should she, because I really oughtn’t to have told you.”

“I’m glad you did, though.  Maybe I can help you help her.”

Ianto smiled.  “That would be a good thing, I think.”

Jack sighed.  “So what happened when they realized they couldn’t _imperius_ her?”

“ _Cruciatus_ for everyone,” Ianto replied bitterly.  “Thankfully they got bored with it.  Luna says it seemed like they were forgotten for weeks on end.”

“You sure she wasn’t just softening the blow?”

“Legilimency.”

“Foul.”

Ianto shrugged.  “Needed to know she was all right.”

Jack sighed.  “Fair enough.”

“Harry, Ron and Hermione were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, where she was being held…”

“Wait.  As in Draco Malfoy?”

“His father.”

“Damn, I was starting to like him.”

“Fathers and sons, Jack.  I like to think I’m nothing like my father.  Don’t assume Draco is anything like Lucius.  Luna told me that Draco managed to sneak water to her and Ollivander.  Sometimes food.  He kept them going, at great risk to himself. 

“That does put a different spin on things,” Jack admitted.  “So what happened?”

“They managed to escape, taking Luna and Ollivander and a few others with them.”  He shook his head.  “They got her to safety, and still she turned up at Hogwarts, to fight.”

“It’s not often someone has that kind of steel, and you don’t see it,” Jack remarked.  “Then again, I do remember spotting it when she promised to get you your wand back.”  Jack felt Ianto tremble, again.

“If anyone could, it would be Luna.  But I don’t hold out much hope.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged again.  “They don’t trust me.”

“Because of the gun?”

Ianto shook his head.  “I know their decision upset everyone, but I really do get why they handled it the way they did.  And Kingsley could have allowed that shoplifting conviction to keep me from becoming an Auror, but he didn’t.  To my mind, we’re square, on that one.”

“What, then?”

He scoffed.  “I know full well that not allowing me my wand had nothing to do with blending in.  I assume they think I’ll come unhinged, and don’t want me to have my wand to focus my power, if that happens.”

“And how did you deduce that, if you didn’t remember the reason they were worried about it?”

“Maybe it was that bleed-through Draco’s been talking about.  That whisper of something, combined with the fact that they always called me mad, anyway.”

“Why?”

Ianto shrugged.  “My flying.”

Jack grinned.  “I did catch some of your moves.”

“I hope the drones had better things to do than to follow me that whole day.”

“Ianto, you were everywhere.  Of course they picked you up.  But that’s beside the point.  Your flying was breathtaking.”

“Thank you,” he smiled shyly.  “I do love to fly.”

“You still do?”

“Every chance I get,” Ianto smiled.

“Got a fast broom?”  Jack somehow managed to make the question sound dirty.

Ianto laughed.  “As a matter of fact, I have invested in the best and fastest broom that money can buy.”

Jack adjusted his hold on Ianto, reveling in the younger man’s pliability in his arms.  He nuzzled Ianto’s ear, finding the spot just behind it that made Ianto purr.  “So how much does a top of the line broom set you back?”  Kiss. 

 _Purr_.  “More than a suit from Savile Row.  Bit less than two.” 

“I’m beginning to think I pay you too much.”  Nip. 

 _Hum_. 

“Between this broom.”  Kiss. 

 _Purr_. 

“And those _suits_.”  Bite. 

 _Moan_.

They snogged themselves breathless, before settling back down.  Jack was aching for more, but he could tell that Ianto, while deliciously responsive to his attentions, was not ready, yet.  He was, in fact, exhausted by their conversation and subsequent kissing.  Jack willed himself to be patient.

“Thank you, Jack,” Ianto whispered.

“For what?”

“Giving me time.”  Ianto forced his head up, so he could catch Jack’s earlobe between his teeth before whispering, “I’ll make it worth your while, and soon, even if I have to _imperius_ Draco for a potion.”

Jack chuckled.  “No need to resort to that.  You’re worth the wait.”  He kissed Ianto on the top of his head as he settled back against Jack’s shoulder.  “Now sleep.”  As they shifted against one another – and gods, how perfectly they fit! – Jack whispered, “Thank you for telling me about Luna.”

“Mmm.  Moon-bug,” he murmured, already half asleep.

Jack chuckled and kissed him again.

***


End file.
